August 1811

Royston wouldn't hesitate to confess that, despite his current and well-regarded career as an architect, he wasn't the most diligent student during his younger days. He only did as much as was required by his teachers and mentors. And even the Almighty was aware of that if it weren't for the recognition his father's name afforded him, he certainly wouldn't have been accepted by the renowned architect, Mr. Watts, to further hone his skills in his office. The reason was straightforward: young Royston had a penchant for his circle of friends and various social gatherings. Therefore, he often found himself drawn to mischief whenever the opportunity presented itself.

However, after his father's passing, he underwent a transformation as his world turned around. This change was primarily born out of a certain fear that gripped him; a profound apprehension that settled in once the initial waves of mourning receded. The prospect of forming an attachment, only to have it shattered by sudden departure, was a pain he wished to avoid at all costs.

The thought of losing his mother was something Roy couldn't bear to entertain, even though he knew that one day she would pass on. Fortunately, that day was far off in the future.

He resolved to develop a tough exterior, to maintain a certain distance from his friends, to keep acquaintances at a polite arm's length. He would flirt, certainly, but never let things progress too far... Roy wanted no attachments that might leave him open and defenceless once more. The memory of how tenderly his father cared for the less fortunate, and the tragic end it brought him, was a painful reminder.

Therefore, Royston toiled and studied, striving to fill the meticulously constructed walls of his world with knowledge, keeping it an emotional void. He channelled his passion into his architectural expertise, and it rewarded him handsomely.

Was he lonely? Undeniably. Did he desire companionship? Fleetingly.

So, why did he engage in a wager to win Miss Whitcombe's hand in marriage?

That was a valid question, and Royston knew the answer well. Eleanor, with her beauty and amiable nature, beckoned to him. Should she become his wife, she would certainly be a refuge of serenity. Their relationship would be then built on mutual respect, not sentiment, which he reserved for his mother. And if Providence smiled upon him, perhaps even his children would receive it, although they might know him as a distant, unemotional father, safeguarded from forming the same deep attachments he had with his own father.

The bet was primarily intended to marry off Miss Haswell, to rid himself of her ever-vexing presence in his home. Even as he planned to return to Dover, where most of his connections resided, he was determined to have her gone. Royston was feeling particularly petty, and at the height of this pettiness, he decided to compel her into staking her summer residence in St Helens simply because she happened to fancy that simpleton, Westhaven.

Royston found himself losing in a battle of wits with Mina, as she had the upper hand in their verbal clashes. However, he couldn't afford to lose the bet, especially considering her affections for the Earl. She had made her choice, and Royston was willing to respect it. In fact, he was even ready to help her win his heart, although he had only a faint idea of how to do so. Subtlety and tactful conversation weren't skills he often needed in his social circles, which were far from composed of uptight aristocrats with their ever-present fans, ready to wave away the slightest inconvenience.

Yet Royston was stubborn enough to press on, for he feared the potential loss in an entirely different conflict - a battle of the heart that might never be requited. Bah! Reciprocity was unnecessary, for he strictly forbade himself from considering Mina in any other light than a constant thorn in his side. He resolved to dissuade her with his own sharp demeanour and a tongue that could cut as sharply as any lash.

So, when he discovered her engrossed in a book in the drawing room, fully aware of her aversion to being disrupted during such pursuits, he couldn't resist the opportunity.

"Dear Miss Haswell," he barged in, adopting a tone with a hint of mischievousness, "might I entice you to join me for tea in our garden, beneath the charming gazebo? It's a splendid day, and it's a shame to waste your fine eyesight indoors."

Mina cast a warm smile upon him and responded in kind, "My dear Lord Langdon, you might pique my curiosity in anything you wish, but whether I choose to entertain such intrigue is another matter entirely."

She then redirected her attention to the pages of her book, only to have it swiftly plucked from her grasp. The suddenness of the act left her momentarily startled.

"I'm afraid I must take your book hostage in that case," he declared casually, inspecting the book's cover. "Cecilia by Frances Burney," he read the title aloud, a mischievous glint in his eye. "My, my, I never pegged you for a lover of romance. Do we see a reflection of ourselves in the young heiress, perhaps?"

Mina peered at him with a wry grin. "My, my," she teased, "I never thought you to be so well-versed in women's writings."

He pursed his lips briefly, then responded, "I'm neither confirming nor denying that here. You'll find me by the gazebo to continue this discourse."

With those words, he turned and briskly walked away, leaving Mina with a soft chuckle. Once he was out of sight, he muttered to himself, "Goodness, what am I doing? I intended to mock her mercilessly, and yet I find myself almost flirting with her! Oh well, I'll be more brazen at tea."

His mother suddenly appeared before him, casting a quizzical glance his way.

"My dear boy, you appear as if you've sampled sour milk," she observed his furrowed brow, then noticed the book in his hand. "And why, pray tell, are you carrying Cecilia around? Don't tell me you're perusing that book, or I shall be forced to summon the physician for an immediate examination."

Roy's lips curved into a broad smile, and he reassured her, "My dear mother, it's Miss Haswell's book. I'm merely conveying it to the gazebo where we'll be having tea. Would you care to join us?"

"Ah, tempting offer, but I'm bound for a visit to the Dalloways," Polly replied, adjusting her parasol. "Enjoy your tea with Mina, and we shall convene for dinner later."

As she moved toward the door, she pivoted back to Royston. "And please, Roy, don't engage in any behaviour I wouldn't endorse," she advised.

"Of course, mother, you needn't worry," Roy swiftly assured her. At that moment, his words rang entirely true.

He, of course, couldn't foresee that destiny had arranged for a couple of rather daring encounters to challenge his self-control. For now, he was allowed to bask in his innocence's malevolent charm.

Royston was seated beneath the gazebo with a table set for tea when Mina joined him, a lingering smile upon her face.

"So here I am, Lord Langdon," she said, her tone touched with sarcasm. "What, may I ask, compelled you to extract me from my literary pursuits so delicately?"

"You owe me the information about the local gentry, Miss Haswell," he replied with a playful grin as he took a sip of his tea. "Perhaps it slipped your mind, but I do take my promises quite seriously."

Royston was determined not to repeat the situation from his first soirée. He knew he had to change his tactics, even if it meant interacting with the venomous Miss Haswell more often than he would prefer.

"No, I haven't forgotten this daunting task. But, given my previous unsuccessful attempts, I opted to await your initiative," she replied, her tone surprisingly devoid of animosity, which caught Royston off guard.

He nodded, turning to Mina. "Very well, where shall we begin?"

She contemplated for a moment before answering, "Let's begin with the gossipers. The lady who took you by the arm is Lady Evans. Always, and I mean always, be careful when speaking around her. Everything you say could be used against you in the future."

Mina carried on with her chatter as Royston nodded intermittently. His attention, however, wandered, not quite adhering to the conversation. He noted an abundance of freckles around Mina's left eye, those eyes he pondered were the shade of hazelnuts or walnuts, and he had made up his mind to settle on hazelnut. His gaze traced the elegant curve of her lip...

"You appear to be in remarkably high spirits today, Miss Haswell," he interjected after she had concluded her discussion regarding Johnson's family. "Might you have, by any chance, inhaled my mother's salts?"

Mina arched her eyebrows, regarding him with a gaze that suggested he'd taken leave of his senses.

"Pray, have you been inhaling the scent of horse dung? You seem rather unlike yourself today, Lord Langdon," she retorted, taking a measured sip of her tea to quell the dryness in her throat.

She wasn't blind; she could discern the intense scrutiny he applied to her. Mina had one objective - to provide him with a comprehensive overview of the local gentry and then make her escape from his company as swiftly as propriety allowed. After all, being alone with Royston didn't sit quite right with her.

"Tell me, what virtues do you find in Westhaven? What qualities prompted your eagerness to wed him?"

Royston's question left Mina momentarily stunned, causing her to struggle for a response.

"Miss Haswell, you're usually brimming with answers for all manner of inquiries, and now, you find yourself at a loss for words?" he playfully teased.

She huffed in response, her voice a touch defensive. "He's a kind gentleman... and exceedingly handsome," Mina quickly added, her words almost tripping over each other. "I could just as well inquire what you find appealing in my dear friend, Eleanor."

Royston fixed her with an intense look. "Miss Whitcombe and I had a most enlightening conversation. She's a woman of great propriety and knowledge, one who would undoubtedly make an excellent wife and mother. I assumed, given your participation in our little wager, that your interactions with the Earl had been more extensive. However, I now see that you've exchanged little more than pleasantries with the man."

Mina regarded him with a frown. "What are you implying? Are you suggesting you hold reservations about the Earl, and thus, won't aid me in my matrimonial pursuit? Or are you withdrawing from our wager?"

Royston sighed. "All I'm suggesting is that you should be absolutely certain about committing your life to that man."

"I am resolute in my decision, I assure you. And are you equally certain about marrying Miss Whitcombe?" Mina asked, her tone unyielding.

"I am without a doubt," he replied, unwavering.

Mina gestured with her hands. "Then what is the issue? Do not concern yourself with the depth of my acquaintance with Westhaven. Instead, focus on how to present me in a manner that catches his attention as a suitable match."

Royston parted his lips, almost uttering, You are a woman deserving of more than just a marriage!

However, he seized and strangled the words before they could escape his lips. Mina, with her keen gaze, didn't fail to notice the shift in his expression.

"Is there something you were about to say?" She inquired, her concern evident.

"That the nuptials should take place posthaste," he blurted out, then swiftly corrected himself, "I meant, not our nuptials, but yours with Westhaven, and mine with Miss Whitcombe."

Mina's eyes twinkled, and she replied in good cheer, "It appears we finally see eye to eye."

A comfortable silence settled between them as no further words were required.

Yet Royston broke the silence, "But as I'm not the most skilled at matchmaking, it could take a considerable time until I sway Westhaven your way."

Mina nodded in agreement. "It won't be particularly easy for me either, considering Eleanor's a coquette who's always had a queue of suitors."

With a sudden burst of laughter, they both found themselves overcome with amusement, and it was a full minute before they could regain their composure.

Mina was the first to compose herself. "This is indeed a spectacular situation. However, I suppose it's time for me to return to my reading as I've already given you a fair glimpse into the society here in Southampton. Worry not, Lord Langdon, I have every confidence you'll navigate those treacherous waters with skill before long."

As she reached for the book, Royston's hand suddenly covered hers. It stole Mina's breath and sent her heart racing. When she looked up into his eyes, there was something... something that sent a shiver through her, but not of fear. Could it be... desire?

"I do recall this book being a topic of much conversation," he murmured, "even my mother would discuss it during her visits or when we had guests. That's how I came to know the general story, but the finer details escape me, I'm afraid."

He released her hand, and as Mina nodded, shecould feel her cheeks burning. She hastily took the book and disappeared intothe house. Later both young hearts pondered the moment their hands had touched as ifa scalding mark had been left behind.